


Professionals

by a_ufo_party



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine!, Inspired by (but not a direct AU) peraltiago, Mutual Pining, Undercover as a Couple, a little bit of angst (but not much), some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ufo_party/pseuds/a_ufo_party
Summary: One relieved kiss shared at 3am in a hospital bed;That was the extent of their romantic history.So how hard could pretending to be an engaged couple for an undercover mission really be?





	Professionals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuburbanSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/gifts).



> Hello friends! Happy Valentines day! Here is my Fitzsimmons Secret Santa gift to the lovely @unbreakablejemmasimmons on tumblr! Hope you enjoy it <3  
> Heavily inspired by Peraltiago, but not a direct AU.

**_Prologue..._ **

_ The first day Fitz had met Simmons, he had decided that she was the most amazing woman he’d ever encountered. She was also a know it all, pain in the ass, grammer stickler, but that just added to her charm. After walking through the doors, arms laden with more books than anyone could ever need, she had boldly introduced herself to the entire precinct and made a quip at Fitz for good measure. From that day forward, the banter they shared was a constant bright spot in his days, and she quickly grew to be, not only his favorite co-worker, but his best friend. _

_ And, then, one day, several years later, while she was doing an undercover mission, they had gotten a call. Something had gone wrong. Jemma had been discovered.  _

_ Then the world had just become things. _

_ Fitz’s voice wavering as he demanded a squad. _

_ His gun clicking as they broke down the doors. _

_ His arms straining as he lifted her from the ground and begged her to still be alive.  _

_ And his heart screaming out that he was in love with her. _

_ That night, he had stayed outside of her hospital room, pacing until his shoes were worn through, and scolding himself for wasting so much time.  _

_ At around 3am the doctor had allowed him to enter the room.  _

_ And, as he lay beside Jemma on the bed, listening to her chirpy voice recount what had gone wrong, she had suddenly stopped talking.  _

_ Her eyes had flickered to his lips. _

_ Unable to hold back a moment longer, his hands had gently cupped her cheeks, waiting for her to give him a slight nod, before kissing her.  _

_ Kissing her softly first, a though she were made of glass, until she had whispered, “I’m not going to break, Fitz.” So, he resumed with all of the passion he had unknowingly repressed for years, trying to communicate all that he felt with a single action. _

_ However, when the sun rose and dusty light filled the room, the intoxication had faded with the darkness. _

_ After untangling their arms, Jemma anxiously whispered, “Fitz, I can’t do this. I...I want to be captain someday. I can’t date a coworker! It’s not professional.” _

_ And Fitz, chest aching, but smiling kindly nonetheless, had agreed. _

_ So, they went back to the way things were. And eventually, the awkwardness faded, and the kiss was just a memory, burning deep in the back of their minds. _

_ However, to protect his heart, Fitz had made a resolve: To avoid anything, be it a hug, or a flirtation, that may put him in danger of falling in love again. _

_ But they were cops, after all. How hard could that really be? _

* * *

 

“We’re engaged!” Jemma grinned, gripping his arm with the strength of a vulture.

Instantly, Fitz felt the color drain from his face. However, after a fearful glance into Jemma’s pleading gaze, he nodded. “Er, yeah. I just...popped the question tonight, actually.”

“He did! It was so sweet. And this was the destination of our first date, so it would mean the world to us if we could get a table.” Jemma spoke sweetly, flashing a desperate smile at the hostess. 

Moments later, the two co-workers were seated at a cozy table, scanning the room for their perp. In the dim candle light, faces were hard to decipher. Everyone became a series of shadows and orange glow, as the live piano played the sort of music heard only in elevators. 

“I think I see our man.” Jemma murmured after a moment, giving a slight nod at a booth on the wall.

“6’2, white, dark hair. Yeah, I’d say that’s him.” Fitz agreed, pushing his fake glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He had been handling this case for nearly two years with little to no luck. But tonight, he had been told by a reliable source that the perp, a wealthy drug dealer by the name of Grant Ward, would be meeting with his supplier (who happened to be the chef.) And he and Jemma would be there to intercept it. Finally, he was going to close this case. As long as he stayed sharp and didn’t get distracted. 

“Listen, Fitz, I apologize for...well, you know.” The young woman spoke after the two had ordered appetizers. 

“Hm? For not letting me get the mozzarella sticks? No, you were right. I’m lactose intolerant. It wouldn’t be a good idea.” He grinned, cocking his head. He knew full well what she was actually talking about, but hoped you would take his deflection as a cue to end the conversation. 

“No, I mean...the engagement.” Leaning in, she blushed slightly. “Given our...history, I suppose it was rather foolish.”

The tinge of pink brightened her pale face in the flickering candles.

Fitz’s breath caught in his throat.

“No, it was a good idea. It got us a table, didn’t it?” Shrugging, he forced a casual air. “So, nice work, Simmons. Good thinking. Really good. Good stuff.” 

She beamed. “Well, right then.”

“Yup.”

They sat in silence for a moment as the waitress placed their salads in front of them. 

Then, Jemma blurted out once more, “I just hope I didn’t put you in an uncomfortable position. I know how much this case means to you, and I wasn’t thinking-”

Fitz placed his hand over hers to quiet her. “Jemma, it’s really okay. I’m...I’m over it.”

He felt himself wince at the lie.

“You are?” asked Jemma, a strange look in her eyes.

Pulling away his hand, he folded them in his lap. “Yeah, I mean...it was a couple of years ago, anyway. No reason we can’t be professionals about this.”

“Right. Professionals. I agree completely.”

“Great. Good.” He nodded. “Besides, now that we’ve got the table, there’s really no reason for us to keep up the whole engaged thing.”

“Right! We can just have a pleasant dinner, and then hopefully catch our perp.”

“Sounds good to me, Simmons-”

He was interrupted suddenly by a young woman approaching their table. She had bleached blonde hair, with cherry red lipstick, and something indefinable wealthy about her.

“Oh my word, I adore that dress! Where did you get it?” She gasped, eyes looking Jemma up and down. 

Smiling, the English woman looked mildly embarrassed. “Oh, thank you! I um, purchased it at that little boutique by the movie theater.”

“Shut up! Perfectly Pluto? That’s where I got mine!” The blonde did a spin to show off her tight, black mini dress. 

“Oh, how lovely!” Jemma beamed, relief obvious in her eyes. 

“Shelby, stop bothering these people.” A stern voice cut in suddenly. 

The young woman deflated, turning to face the newly arrived figure.

Instantly, Fitz felt his blood turn cold.

Standing in front of their table with a possessive arms around the blonde’s waist, was their perp. 

Recovering from the shock quickly, Jemma smiled. “Not at all, sir! Shelby was just complimenting me on my dress. It was very sweet.”

The man’s shadowy eyes squinted at Fitz. “Huh. You’re the engaged couple, right?” 

“How did you know?” Jemma asked, her smile faultering slightly.

“I overheard the pair of you talking to the hostess. Congratulations.” 

“Er, thank you.” Fitz nodded, taking Jemma’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to your dinner. Good evening.” With that, the perp yanked Shelby’s arm and the two returned to their table.

A few minutes later, a bottle of champaign arrived, compliments of Ward.

“Well, Fitz,” Jemma commented, eyes wide. “It appears we have made a friend.”

* * *

 

After an eventless hour of faked laughter and awkward hand holding, Jemma hissed that their perp was moving. 

And he had a briefcase with him.

Heartbeat quickening, Fitz rose from the table and made his way towards the kitchen with Jemma in toe.

The hallway beside the transactions supposed location provided a clear view of the chef. However, it also allowed the chef a clear view of them. 

“He’s going to see us, Fitz.” Jemma whispered, clinging close to him. “And he knows us now!”

“Yeah, so it seems.” He mumbled, trying to stay focused despite the proximity of her body.

Then, suddenly, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Put your hands on my waist.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because, then we will look like the unassuming couple we’re meant to be. Let’s use the fact that he knows us to our advantage. Please, just do it.”

Letting out a deep breath, he did as instructed. 

And the pair proceeded to watch, their position intimate, but their bodies frigid.

For the long time, Ward seemed to be genuinely complimenting the chef on the meal, his briefcase all but forgotten. The two laughed and shook hands. Then, he turned to leave.

“He’s not handing the chef anything!” Jemma hissed, her body pressing closer to Fitz.

“I...I guess my source was wrong.” Fitz replied, gaze still glued to the perp. 

At that, the man’s eyes flashed through the kitchen window and fixed upon the detectives.

“Fitz.” Jemma whispered, freezing. “He sees us.”

“I know.”

“What do we-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Fitz wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, pressed her against the wall, and kissed her. 

After a small noise of surprise, she responded. Running her fingers through his curls, she deepened the kiss.

And for a moment, Fitz forgot that they were working a case. As the dizzying reality of their situation muddled his mind, his stomach flipped excitedly. Her lips felt soft and familier, and he realized he had never really forgotten their touch. Beneath his fingertips, her skin was like burning velvet, and her quiet sighs were enough to convince him that this was all a dream.

Jemma was really kissing him.

And he was really enjoying it.

Oh no.

Breathing heavily, he pulled away from her as quickly as he had began. “Okay, I think he’s not suspicious anymore.”

Jemma’s eyes were wide, and a splash of pink painted it’s way across her cheeks. But she didn’t look unhappy. There was something about her that seemed to glow. “Yes, ehm, good thinking.”

“My pleasure.” He paused, before continuing in a panic. “Not that it was my pleasure to kiss you. I mean, it wasn’t...unpleasant, but I mean, um...it was a pleasure to help us look, um-”

“Less conspicuous.”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at one another before making their way back to their table.

Clearing his throat, Fitz settled into his seat once more. “So, I guess this was a dead end.”

“I’m sorry, Fitz. I know how much this case meant to you.” She replied empathetically.

“It’s okay. I guess we can still arrest Ward, I just wanted to catch the supplier too.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I was so sure that the chef was the supplier, though.”

“Fitz-”

“The lead was airtight. I wonder if something went wrong ,or-”

_ “Fitz-” _

“-or maybe when he saw us he got scared-”

“Fitz! He and Shelby are going back to the kitchen!” Jemma hissed through a clenched jaw.

“Oh. Oh!” Fitz’s eyes grew wide. “Well, let’s get moving-”

Suddenly, there was a gunshot, followed by a loud crash. And the restaurant descended into a screaming frenzy of frightened patrons. 

The two officers jumped to their feet, drawing guns. 

“Police!” Jemma shouted over the sudden panic in the dining room.

Following her to the kitchen Fitz yelled. “Everyone get down!” 

His heartbeat was racing louder than it had been all evening, and that was saying quite a lot. 

As he and Jemma ventured into the disheveled kitchen, they were greeted by the body of the chef.

“The back door is open.” Jemma breathed, falling beside the corpse.

“Right. Okay, I’ll follow Ward, you take care of the body.” Giving her a hurried nod, he said, “Be careful, Jemma.” 

The air in the alleyway smelled of garbage and grease, lit only by flickering street lamps and glowing windows. The moment Fitz was standing in the stagnant, grey puddles on the cobblestone street, his eyes fixed upon a shadowy figure running a little ways ahead of him.

“Police! Freeze!” He shouted, taking off in pursuit. 

The figure paused momentarily, before continuing their escape.

Shaking his head, Fitz quickened his pace. “I said freeze! I have a gun!”

At his words, the person stopped again. However, this time, they lifted their hands above their head.

“Please don’t shoot me! I-I didn’t know he was gonna kill him!” A female voice erupted.

Shelby.

“You’re...you’re not Ward.” Fitz breathed heavily when he was at her side.

“No, I’m not! I ditched him when he shot that chef.” She cried, hands shaking. “We were just supposed to have a nice dinner and-”

“So are you saying he’s still in the restaurant?”

“I think so-”

Heart dropping into his stomach, Fitz turned and ran as fast as his feet would carry him. “Jemma!”

Chest pounding, feet splashing, head aching, he made his way almost unconsciously back to the restaurant.

And the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

Ward was waiting for him, holding Jemma roughly by the arm, and pressing a gun to her head.

“Oh, hello.” The perp grinned cooly. “Nice of you to join us. You’re gonna want to drop your weapon.”

“Fitz, don’t.” Jemma whispered, a watery panic in her eyes.

“I said shut up, you!” Ward hissed, pressing the gun harder against her.

She winced.

The expression pained Fitz as though the gun had been on his head. “Please, Ward, we can talk about this.”

“Okay. Fitz, was it? Let’s talk.” Taking a step back, he dragged the female cop with him. “I’m gonna walk out of here with...that briefcase in the corner. You aren’t gonna follow me. What you are gonna do, is forget you saw me here. And then, next week, if you’re lucky, I’ll drop off your fiancee outside of the station. Sound good?.”

“My...my fiancee?” Fitz asked, glancing at Jemma.

Then it dawned on him.

Ward didn’t know Jemma was a cop.

She wasn’t dressed like one. And presumably, she had set aside her gun to examine the body. Which meant…

Her gun was on the kitchen counter, only a few steps away from where the perp held her. 

With a shimmer of hope in his chest, Fitz met Jemma’s eyes.

_ “Trust me,” _ his gaze pleaded with her.

She nodded in reply.

So, with a deep breath, he put his gun on the floor and lifted his hands. “Ward, please. Jemma-she isn’t involved in this. Let her go”

Ward continued to step backwards, closer to the briefcase...closer to the gun. If Fitz could keep talking, keep approaching him, for a few minutes more, Jemma would be able to reach her weapon.

“Please, Ward.”

“Why should I?”

“I love her.” Fitz was terrified by how easily he said those words.

“And that’s supposed to make me get a magic change of heart?”

“Thought it might.” He shrugged, glancing at Jemma. “Have you ever been in love, Ward? Really in love? The kind of love that makes you do stupid things. The kind of love that...simultaneously breaks you apart and holds you together?”

Unaffected, the perp rolled his eyes and continued to back up.

“If you have been in love, if you have felt what I feel for Jemma, then you’ll know that there is no way I’m letting you walk away with her in hand.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” 

A few footsteps more…

“Please, I-I can’t lose her.” His voice was raw...and the words were true.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now, if you’re done soliloquizing, I’m going to be taking my briefcase.” Ward grinned.

And instantly, Jemma acted. 

Flinging her head back, her hair whipped across his face, giving her just enough time to grab her gun. In a matter of seconds, she had one arms around Ward’s neck, and a gun to his head.

Relief flooded over Fitz’s entire body.

She was amazing.

“Grant Ward, you are under arrest.” She breathed heavily, giving Fitz a tired grin.

* * *

 

The next hour passed in a whirlwind of police sirens, flashing lights, and papers. 

Jemma was examined by the med team, while Fitz answered what felt like a thousand questions. 

Slowly, the restaurant was cleared, and the patrons were sent home. In a matter of minutes, the bistro stood empty, and the co-workers found their way to each other again.

They were seated on the sidewalk, wrapped in blankets as the other officers walked by and offered their congratulations on the way to their cars.

“Well, you caught your man.” Jemma sighed happily, knocking her shoulder against his. 

Returning the smile, Fitz met her gaze softly. “Yeah. We did.”

“Are you planning on celebrating?” 

“Eh, Hunter will probably just take me out for drinks this weekend.”

“Is that...a good thing?”

“Honestly, you never know with Hunter.”

The two chuckled, eyes following the last police car as it left the parking lot.

In an instant, Fitz became abnormally aware of the lack of people around.

Shivering in the chilly autumn air, Jemma inched closer to him.

“I don’t have to ask how you’re gonna celebrate.” Fitz continued, trying not to fixate on her closeness.

They had kissed not an hour early, for god’s sake!

“Oh you don’t?” Jemma lifted a challenging eyebrow.

“Nope. You’re going to swing by the grocery store and buy some earl grey and biscuits. Then, you’re gonna watch Pride and Prejudice until you fall asleep.”

“That’s...right.”

“Mhm. You’re sadly predictable, Simmons.”

She elbowed him, eliciting a wry grin.

Then, after a happy moment, she said something that caught him off guard.

“I don’t suppose...you’d like to do it with me?”

Turning his body to face her, Fitz felt a nervous, hopeful flame flicker to life in his chest. “What?”

Jemma stared back with a strained look on her face. “Would you...like to come home with me?”

Fitz swallowed roughly.

Then, without knowing who initiated it, the two were kissing again. 

Climbing onto Fitz’s lap, Jemma tossed aside her blanket and cupped his face with her hands. Her lips moved against his carelessly, effortlessly, doing everything Fitz could hope they would.

For his part, the Scotsman wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against his chest.

And the two continued like this for what felt like a mere second, but must have been longer.

“Jemma...Jemma, please-” Fitz breathed first, loosening his grip slightly.

“What is it, Fitz?” Jemma sighed, eyes wide.

“I just...you said you wanted us to be professionals.”

A beat passed.

“Oh. I’m sorry-” She started, beginning to move off of him.

Shaking his head, Fitz held her still. “But, being together tonight...I know it was just pretend, but it felt-”

“It felt natural. Effortless.”

“Yeah.”

Sighing, Jemma leaned forward, touching her forehead to his.

“I know what I said, Fitz. But...if I’m being honest, the only thing I am sure of anymore is that I want you. I want to-to be with you.”

At her words, Fitz’s heart burst to life in his chest. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do.” A beaming smile spread across her face.

“Well, I want that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

They kissed again. Slower this time, with no frantic sense of urgency.

“But,” Jemma continued, when they broke apart. “I do still want to be captain someday. So, I don’t know…”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

“Together.”

“And if tonight shows anything, it’s that you and I are impeccable actors. I mean, Ward really thought you were my fiancee. So, whos to say we can’t act like stoic professionals at work?”

“Well, in Ward’s defense, he did see us making out and most cops don’t do that.”

“They don’t? Oh no, I gotta tell Hunter.”

Jemma snorted, head falling back with laughter. 

Fitz decided it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. 

A sound he hoped to never stop hearing for as long as he lived.


End file.
